


Ode To Helplessness

by broadwayiscooliguess



Category: The Book of Mormon - Parker/Stone/Lopez
Genre: Abuse, Emotional Abuse, M/M, McPoptarts if you squint, domestic abuse, first fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-05
Updated: 2017-05-05
Packaged: 2018-10-28 12:38:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10831446
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/broadwayiscooliguess/pseuds/broadwayiscooliguess
Summary: Connor Mckinley is hurt and it's all Kevin Price's fault.





	Ode To Helplessness

**Author's Note:**

> Triggers:  
> \- abuse  
> \- allusions to rape  
> \- profanity 
> 
> Enjoy
> 
>  
> 
> (This was half based off the recent abuse storyline from Holby City with the characters Dom Copeland and Isaac Mayfield. I loved the way the storyline was presented and wanted to make a fic from it - there is hardly a fandom for HC but even so I found it easy to translate this to another setting. Credit to the BBC and HC writers and of course Matt and Trey)

The pain blossomed from everywhere. Connor Mckinley supposes that this must be how Kevin felt after the General.... well, he must have felt helpless after. He had no one to turn to and strangely, funnily, ironically enough, neither does Connor. And that's what makes him let out a pathetic laugh which soon turns into a torrent of tears, snot, and sobs which hardly looks attractive. Then again, who's going to see him like this? Certainly not Kevin; he always leaves after, too ashamed, too angry.

Kevin always was angry, Connor thinks, at least while he's known him. In fact, the first time the two spoke to each other in Uganda Kevin had said, with veiled frustration, that he was not gay, not having gay thoughts, and was the perfect poster boy for Mormonism. Gosh, to think that conversation was well over three years ago. Things had changed, and Connor wasn't sure whether that was for the best or not.

And so Connor slowly releases his clenched muscles, pulls himself off the cold kitchen tiles, grasping onto the counter for support. That's when a spike of pain shoots from his abdomen, and look he's off crying again. He feels pathetic, a failure, something Kevin has drilled into him since the past summer.

He reaches for the medicine cabinet above and to the right of the cooker, ignoring that gosh darn spike appear again. It shouldn't hurt that much, but it was the worst one yet, maybe he should - no. He should take a couple of tablets, have a shower, and watch Mamma Mia for perhaps the hundredth time.

Before he knows it, his thumb is hovering above the name 'Poptarts' on his cell. He's tempted. He really is. But what would Kevin say if he wasn't at the apartment when he got back from wherever he had stormed off to. That would surely be worse than the state he's in now.

If he were back in District Nine as District Leader, the decision would be made instantaneously. Why suffer so much? He'd press that button with no hesitation, Poptarts would help him pack his stuff, and he would never have to see Kevin again. He'd move to London maybe, instead of Florida, get a job in the theatre. Start off with something small, Front Of House or simply selling merch to the theatre goers - anything would be better than his current job at the nearby Law Firm.

Connor presses the home button, opting to stay silent. He doesn't even get in the shower, or watch Mamma Mia, he just sits on the couch, staring blankly at the equally as blank TV. His mind begins to wander, past moving into the apartment, past returning to America, past Arnold hugging Kevin goodbye, back to Uganda. Back to when things were okay.

When Elder Kevin Price had hesitantly entered the Mission Hut, Connor had instantly found an attraction; he was almost helpless. Who wouldn't? But he had covered it up, telling Kevin and to some extent himself to turn everything off. He was calming himself with the phrase that had got him so far, that it would be a shame to fall at the final hurdle.

They hadn't talked properly for a week or so whilst Kevin was settling into his Mission. And yet, Connor saw a shift in him around halfway through that week. From a carefree Mormon, even after his Hell Dream, to one that let his anger out more easily. He could see that Kevin was repressing something, and it seemed a rather big something and as the (ex) District Leader, Connor had to say something.

When the other Elders had gone out to assist Mafala and Naba build stronger relationships with the next village over, Connor had said that the roof needed fixing (which wasn't a lie) and that he needed Kevin the help him (which, again wasn't a lie, as Kevin was quite tall and Connor was quite small). As Kevin fetched a rusty, slightly broken ladder, Connor attempted to rehearse the little speech he had been planning in his head each night for a couple of days after he was woken from his nightly Hell Dreams.

"Let's get going, Elder."

Connor hadn't responded, just patted the slightly decrepit sofa that he was sat on, a comforting smile playing on his lips. Kevin raised an eyebrow, rolled his eyes, but still situated himself next Connor.

"I thought we were meant to be fixing the roof," Kevin had said, matter of factly.

"And we will, just not yet."

Silence prevailed for the better half of a minute before Connor began.

"You seem different Elder Price. You're distant, and I've seen you sneaking coffee on many occasions, I erm..." the speech that Connor had so meticulously planned had dissipated into the heat of the Ugandan day.

"Is that it? I just like coffee Elder McKinley, and have been deprived of that opportunity for nineteen years," Kevin rolled his eyes again; Connor had later learnt that the eye roll was a deflective action to show that Kevin wasn't really bothered when he actually really was.

"No, erm. Well, you just don't seem like the person you were when you first got here. You've potentially left your religion you had apparently tried so hard to excel at and erm, well, it's no secret that you've spent a few days with Gotswana in the past couple of weeks. You've not got erm, AIDS have you?"

Kevin burst into raucous laughter, something that set Connor's heart aflame and his cheeks tinge with a spot of red akin to his hair. Connor stumbled upon his words, trying to apologise for his mistake.

"Oh God no, I haven't got AIDS! It might come as a surprise that I intend to wait until after marriage to, you know," Kevin snorted - even his snort was kind of cute - as Connor's whole face burned.

"Well, why were you with Gotswana?" Connor interrogated, pulling his knees closer to his chest.

"It's not important," Kevin dismissed, a hand clenching and unclenching repeatedly. "I just, it's nothing, honestly."

"I thought Mormons weren't supposed to lie."

"Yeah, but we aren't exactly Mormons now are we?"

Connor sighed. "I still feel like I am though. It's like, after you've been exposed to something for so long, you can't just ignore it, and pretend it's not there, it'll always be a part of you for better or for worse."

And how true those words were, the ex-District leader thinks, pulling himself out of his stupor. Hadn't Kevin himself been exposed to a crime of the worst kind? Hadn't he felt as helpless as Connor is? Couldn't he understand that Connor was just as helpless as he once was? Didn't he know that Connor feels as though he's a lost soul and can't find his footing anywhere? Kevin wouldn't know because he tends to spend the majority of his time obsessing over himself and the rest making others obsess over him.

No. It isn't fair to focus on the bad attributes only. There are some good ones, there has to be. Kevin is kind (lie). Kevin looks after him (lie). Kevin loves him (Connor hopes this one isn't a lie otherwise he will walk out the door right this second but he won't do that even if he said he was going to).

Lies seemed to be the only things that keep Connor moving. "Maybe today will be different" is the phrase that has stuck with him since summer alongside his old friend "Turn it off".

Connor stands from the sofa and pads across the apartment towards his and Kevin's shared bedroom. The full length mirror resides in there and is seemingly becoming Connor's closest friend for checking where he has to hide the occasional bruising from him being too clumsy (lie). He quickly sheds his top, immediately being faced with a couple of streaks of blood adorning his ribs coupled with a large red patch of skin that will most certainly turn into a mottled colouring of blues, purples, greens, and blacks.

The temptation returns to call Poptarts but it quickly passes with a single click of a light switch somewhere in his mind. He can face this alone. He's seen worse. And temptation is a sin he will not be giving into thank you very much.

His attention turns to his face now. He scans over his nose which doesn't seem broken which is a good sign and Kev-. And his eyes haven't been touched but his lips have and another crimson streak has made its home running down towards his chin. But this is fine. Return this issue to its box and crush it while it still has the chance to grow into something else.

He'll have to call in sick for the next few days just to make sure that the majority of the bruising is hidden. There is, however, this niggling thought that he should tell someone and should get away from Kevin as soon as humanly possible. He could call ex-Elder Church, he'd possibly know how to keep the whole thing on the down low until Kevin is back to his usual self; that is, if Kevin had a usual self.

Of course he does. He has to. There has to be a Kevin Price who still holds the ideas of Mormonism to the upmost sincerity somewhere in his mind. The last time and only time Connor had been let into Kevin's mind was a couple of months after the Mission President had deemed District Nine unworthy. It was late and the other Elders who had decided to stay were in bed. Soft snores filled the dilapidated hut, and despite the comforting presence of Elder Thomas (or Elder Poptarts to Connor), the District Leader still remained awake.

Connor didn't expect anyone else to be up and about which was why he had lugged his covers to the main living quarters. For comfort reasons rather than to keep warm as Africa, believe it or not, was quite hot. He certainly didn't expect the ever confident Elder Price to be crying, nay sobbing into a cup of coffee.

Connor made his way over to the younger boy, pulling out a chair next to Kevin who flinched at the sound.

"Are you okay, Elder?" Connor said tentatively, positioning his covers so that they fell over the both of them.

"Not really," Kevin choked through sobs, his breathing becoming harsher each second.

"Do you want to tell me about it?"

Kevin shrugged. It was clear that the sparkle had disappeared out of his eyes, turning dull instead.

"Okay, well, I'm going to make you another cup of coffee while you decide whether you want to tell me or not."

Connor returned five minutes later, two mugs in his hands and a packet of poptarts secured under his arm. Kevin was no longer crying, instead he seemed to be staring blankly at nothing, completely helpless.

"Do you want to tell me about it?" Connor smiled softly as Kevin grasped onto his coffee as though it were a lifeline; Connor supposed it was. "Is this about Elder BFN?"

Kevin nodded. Earlier that day the General had asked to be baptised into the Church and Connor had instantly agreed despite Kevin's reluctant protests. Afterall, the more people he brought into the Church, the more likely District Nine was to regain funding from the Mission President. The new Elder BFN seemed to frighten Kevin which hadn't gone unnoticed by Connor (he totally wasn't looking at Elder Price at every opportunity).

"I don't know what's gone on between the two of you, but wouldn't it just be easier to forgive? I mean-"

"I will never forgive him," Kevin spat. "He hurt me in the worst way possible and doesn't even feel remorse about what he did."

"W-what did he do?" Connor's voice was quiet, almost utterly silent and would have been lost during the day.

Kevin dragged a hand through his now imperfect hair. And he told Connor everything. About how the General had attacked him, threatened to shoot him if he didn't keep quiet. How the General had forced an entire book up his... back entrance was a mystery but was still the truth. The General had told Kevin that that was what love is and Connor knows that this is potentially where Kevin had let his anger spiral out of control.

So it's not Kevin's fault. It must be that Connor was threatening him in some way for him to strike out like that.

He decides that he probably shouldn't stand in front of the mirror for too long as Kevin will be returning soon and he has to apologise in some way. It's been around half an hour since Kevin left the apartment so he should be back in another half an hours time or so. So, Connor pulls a jumper out of the closet, leaving his blood stained top on the floor for the time being and meanders back to the kitchen.

Luckily there's no specks of red littering the tiles so Connor can get back to preparing dinner. A buzz from his phone distracts him.

Poptarts, 17:36: Hey Con. Just wondering whether you talked to Kevin about me coming down for the weekend. Cannot wait to see you!

Connor, 17:40: Haven't had chance to ask him yet, will do soon. I'm sure he'll let you, if not I'll have to smuggle you in lmao

Poptarts, 17:41: I've booked my flight already whoops!!

Connor is typing...

Please don't come it'll just get worse

Connor deletes the prior message, sighs, then types out a seemingly excited reply.

Connor, 17:47: Oml what an idiot, I can't wait to see you! <3

Poptarts, 17:48: <3

Connor curses in his head. He shouldn't have put that heart, even if it was meant completely platonically, Kevin won't see it as such. He should have just said no to Poptarts the first time he asked instead of putting himself in this position of "Oh I'll ask Kevin we might be going to visit his parents (lie) but I can ask. If not, I'm sure I can stay here and keep you company :)".

He was turning into a compulsive liar, that was for certain.

The sure sound of a door opening made him flinch and his heart to beat too fast to be normal. The last time a door opening had made him petrified had been well over two years ago.

Kevin had rushed into Connor's shared room, seemingly terrified and Connor's heart had leapt to his throat. Kevin's eyes were wide after he had slammed the rickety door shut.

"Elder Price?" Connor queried, looking up from where he was busily writing a letter to the Mission President asking if there was any chance their District could rejoin the Church.

"H-he tried to talk to me, I couldn't look at him and god I was so scared and he kept touching my arms trying to stop me from coming in. I-I couldn't breathe, I felt so helpless, like there was no one there, y'know? And my mind just, it just, it just kept going back to the, the thing he did."

"Hey, come sit down," Connor attempted to sound soothing but probably sounded just as panicked as Kevin.

The other sat himself opposite Connor on Poptarts' bed, holding his arms close to his chest. He looked so small. They all were. Barely men and sent to a land that half the population of the USA had never heard of, where people get shot daily and... things happen to your closest friends. It wasn't fair.

"Who was it?"

"Elder BFN," Kevin murmured, running a hand through his hair; he had grown thinner, potentially due to the lack of food in Uganda - potentially due to Elder BFN.

Connor stood wanting to protect the most perfect boy he had layed eyes on since Steve Blade in the fifth grade. He had gotten to the door to the outside world before Kevin stopped him.

"No, please don't leave me," Kevin pleaded. "Please don't leave me, I can't be left on my own when he's so near, please Elder McKinley, Arnold's with Naba, I can't be left by myself."

Connor frowned then walked towards Kevin. The District Leader pulled the younger into a tight hug, letting him murmur into his shoulder about how unfair Heavenly Father was.

"I will never leave you, okay?" Connor said, letting Kevin relax into his embrace.

"Promise?"

"I promise."

Which was why, despite everything, Connor couldn't just leave. Kevin needed him. And he needed to be needed, to be wanted, to be loved.

The tell tale sounds of Kevin entering the apartment ring out. The door shuts (which makes Connor flinch); Kevin throws the keys into a wooden bowl (which makes Connor flinch); Kevin takes his shoes off (which make Connor flinch less but still sets him on edge). Connor turns to the sink, choosing to dry the remainder of the dishes instead of facing Kevin immediately.

"Con?" Kevin calls; he almost sounds concerned.

"In here," Connor's voice cracks which he reprimands himself for.

"I brought pizza."

Connor turns around, a large smile painted on his face. Kevin stands in the doorway, a pizza box in his hands, and a pained look upon his features. He places the box on the table and reaches his hand toward Connor's face, who takes a step backwards, the small of his back hitting the counter.

"You still have..."

Connor wipes the corner of his mouth with the sleeve of his jumper, leaving a red spot on the grey material.

"Oh."

"I am sorry, you have to believe me," Kevin places his hands on Connor's cheeks, forcing the other to look at him. "I love you."

"I know," Connor's eyes seem to be all over the place, settling on anywhere but Kevin's own eyes.

"I just, I didn't want Poptarts to stay, because, well... I'm scared you'll actually go. I, I can't cope without you and I'm so scared you're going to find out that I'm not incredible. That I'm not this great person that the Church made me out to be. You're the best thing that has ever happened to me and I love you so much and I'm so sorry."

"S'okay," Connor mumbles, pulling himself out of Kevin's grasp.

"It's not, it's really not, I-"

"Stop talking, if I said it was okay, it's okay," Connor pulls out a chair at the table, eagerly (as eagerly as he can because developing bruises hurt) opening the pizza box.

"I love you, I'm sorry," Kevin sits himself across from Connor; Connor isn't sure whether Kevin is apologising for hurting him (by accident he reminds himself) or for loving him.

"Can we talk about where Poptarts is going to sleep?" Connor asks cautiously; the apartment only has one bedroom and a pretty small sofa that barely spans the height of Connor.

"What - why?" Kevin wonders, confused.

"He's booked his flight already, and it would be rude to say that he can't come after he's gone to all that trouble."

"You haven't told him, have you?" Kevin drops his slice of pizza, the sauce splattering on the once pristine white surface; it kind of looks like me Connor thinks.

"No, I wouldn't, would never put you in that position, gosh, it was a one time thing right? This will never happen again, right?" Connor swallows thickly, nerves building up; he was never good at confrontation and hated asking for things from his parents be it a new pair of shoes when his had become torn or to ask his fiancé from harming him.

"Yeah, one time thing," Kevin nods , tucking back into his pizza.

"So, can he come?"

"Yeah sure. It might be good for us."

And even though Connor knows the probability of this situation happening again is incredibly likely, he has this faint hope that people can change. He has this faint hope that soon he won't feel as helpless. This feeling lasts for a couple of days. Kevin is incredibly sweet and takes him out to dinner the night before Poptarts is due to come over from New York.

It's late Friday night when Poptarts' plane lands and he's practically the last one off or something due to baggage difficulties. Connor realises that he should have told his best friend not to bring as many poptarts and that there is an endless supply of them in Florida. But he's happy, he suddenly doesn't feel as helpless, and everything feels perfect.

"I missed you," Connor hugs Poptarts with all his might, earning a few stares from other late night fliers and an "aww" from a teenage girl a little ways away. Despite the dull throbbing at his ribs, everything is normal between him and Poptarts.

"I missed you too," Poptarts pulls out of the hug too soon, seeing Kevin's glare. "Hey Kevin."

"Hey," Kevin simply says, attempting to control his jealousy.

"You both look well."

It's forced small talk, Connor realises. Kevin and Poptarts never really got on in Uganda but they didn't show it enough for it to become a concern to Connor. Poptarts is his friend so Kevin doesn't really need to like him fully, just enough not to punch him too.

Connor offers to drive, afterall, Kevin had drove on the way over to the airport and deserves a break. It's also an easy way to get Kevin to fall asleep so that the ex Mission Companions can talk to each other. Kevin gladly accepts, opting to lay down in the back seat (which isn't strictly legal but Connor doesn't say a word) and he soon quickly falls asleep.

"How are you?" Connor says when he knows that Kevin is fully asleep.

"I'm good, New York is busy to say the least."

"Have you bumped into Lin Manuel Miranda?" It isn't unknown that Connor adores musicals, and Lin is his current obsession after Kevin had bought him the In The Heights cast recording the day after the... thing happened.

"I don't think I know who that is. Is it a musical theatre person?"

Connor nods, his eyes focusing on the road.

"I don't work near Broadway or live near so I don't usually see any theatre people."

"After all those tap dance lessons I gave you," Connor feigns annoyance.

"Sorry Mr Pink Sparkly Vest."

"That was such a gay thing to do, oh my gosh. And I thought nobody knew!"

"We all knew Con. Anyway, how are you? Is he treating you well?"

Connor freezes, his mind working so fast to create an answer that won't sound suspicious. He jumps to each conclusion rapidly. If he tells Poptarts the truth, Kevin would potentially hurt him again and truth be told, Connor don't think he can deal with the amount of pain he caused Kevin. Then again, if he doesn't tell Poptarts, it could get worse anyway.

"Yeah," he says a moment too late.

"Con, you sure?"

"Yeah, for definite, I love him."

"And you'd tell me if he did anything, right?"

"W-what's with the questions, gosh. I'm not a criminal, no need to go all psycho on me," Connor knows the way he is reacting is uncalled for, especially as Poptarts is being exceptionally concerned, but he's doing this to protect Kevin. So what of Kevin sometimes loses his temper? Doesn't everyone? Doesn't everyone have moments where they lash out on the people closest to them? It doesn't mean they're bad. It doesn't mean that they don't love them. It just means that their love is more passionate, and without each other they would be helpless.

"You would tell me, right?"

And Poptarts sounds so much like himself, that Connor's breath hitches and he looks back to his sleeping soon to be husband. This was a dilemma of great proportions.

"Con?"

But he sounds so much like Kevin at the same time. And where do Connor's loyalties lie? With safety or love. And he's not sure which is which.

"Right?"

Kevin always meant safety and Poptarts always meant brotherly love. But now that Connor's definition of love has changed, the roles have been reversed. Poptarts means safety and Kevin means this new kind of love.

But when had this new kind of love started? Was it as early as Uganda or as late as last summer? Was it when Kevin had first kissed him under some sky far away from home in a place where being gay could get you killed? Or was it when Kevin had proposed in Disney, a stupid Mickey Mouse hat on his head? When did this begin? And who caused it?

Is it Heavenly Father? Have you done this? Don't you think I've been through enough pain, enough Hell without you throwing this at me too? I was so close, so close to being happy and you've just thrown it back in my face. I should have expected as such. I will never be able to tell anyone about this because you made a man who is too perfect, too handsome, too loveable for me to say no to. And now I'm helpless and there's nothing anyone can do about it. Not Poptarts, not me, and especially not you. If you made Kevin this way, then surely you can change him. Take away his anger, please.

"Connor, pull over."

Connor is pulled from his trance, and he soon remembers that he's driving.

"No, I'm fine now, honest," Connor gives a reassuring smile, hoping that his best friend will drop the matter.

"I still want you to pull over. I can drive the rest of the way."

Four days prior was one of the worst days of Connor McKinley's life. Not only had he overslept, he had only just realised that he had yet to reply to Poptarts about whether he could stay for the weekend or not. To some, it would seem weird that Connor couldn't make any decisions for himself and had to ask his fiancé, Kevin Price, about every small thing that arose, but this was their dynamic. It was how they worked.

They didn't use to work like this. When they were in Uganda for their Mission, Connor defiantly wore the metaphorical trousers in their relationship, although that was because he also had to care for a group of other pasty white nineteen to twenty year olds, in a place where being white was a spectacle. However, nowadays, Connor liked to have someone else decide things, as he had tired of deciding.

At least, that's what Kevin said he should feel. He should feel weightless and have no worries and that's what Kevin intended to do. For the first few weeks, this arrangement had been fine. Let Kevin sort out where they would be living together; let Kevin organise their summer vacation; let Kevin take them out for dinner.

It was when Connor had asked Kevin to be less controlling over his entire life -

"My life, Kevin, mine. And I would prefer it if I got to choose what job I apply for as well as helping with the rent. I feel as though I'm doing nothing, I'm helpless, useless even."

\- which he didn't think would be taken as badly as it did. Normally Kevin would take him by the hands and lead him in a gentle kiss but instead Kevin became angry -

"What exactly have you done since we moved here? Nothing. You're right, you're pathetic, a failure and I'm just trying to help."

\- and started to prey on his every weakness. With every step Kevin was right behind, whispering cruel words -

"Failure."

"Pathetic."

"Useless."

"Frigid."

\- but it was clear that Kevin still needed him -

"I love you."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't leave me."

"I need you."

\- and that was all Connor needed.

Connor needs Kevin. He really does.

Kevin had the day off, a rarity, and had promised that he would do all the chores that Connor would usually complete at the weekend. Connor was immensely grateful; at last he could have a weekend of pure relaxation from carrying cups of coffee to meetings (his job at the nearby Law Firm consisted of carrying coffee and sometimes files from meeting to meeting, following his boss around like some forlorn puppy).

He was late. Very late in fact. Almost two hours late. He wasn't even out of bed yet. That was how late he was. And Kevin hadn't even bothered to wake him. Connor tried to be mad, he really did, but he wasn't one for confrontation.

"-ool, yeah. Oh we'll have to come over soon! I can't wait to meet your little one, tell Naba congrats from us. We'll see you soon Arn. See you buddy."

The sound of feet coming towards their room was the only sound aside from ď  
Connor's breathing. Kevin stood in the doorway, leaning on the frame, looking adoringly at his fiancé - fiancé!

"Good morning husband to be," Kevin looked at him and smiled so widely, Connor thought his heart was about to burst; he then remembered the situation of his lateness.

"Don't look at me like that, why didn't you wake me up? Angie has the most important meeting of her career today and she'll fall apart without her latte - Kevin stop laughing at me. This is serious."

"I called in sick for you, better start acting like you got food poisoning Con."

Connor scowled. He threw back the covers and stormed past Kevin who still had an amused glint to his eye.

"Well I just made a miraculous recovery," Connor went into the kitchen, pulling a bowl from the cupboard and pouring some form of healthy cereal that Kevin had bought saying that _"It would be good for you! All the guys at work say that they lost tonnes of weight from it, not that I'm saying you're large or anything, but you could do to be healthier. Eating ten entire Hershey's in one sitting is not healthy."_

"Aw, come on. I just wanted to spend the day with you, what's wrong with that?"

"It's not that I don't want to spend the day with you, it's that today was not a good day to be spontaneous. Do you know how much trouble I'm going to be in? I was so lucky to get that job, and I don't want to lose it."

"Hey, calm down, I just thought, what with the events of yesterday, husband to be," Kevin hugged Connor from behind, but the red head shrugged out of his hold, opting to sit down and eat his breakfast _which could do with a little sugar, where did Kevin put it?_

"Don't be like that," Kevin reached out to touch Connor's arm but the other pulled it out of his reach, scowling, if possible, further into his cereal. "Don't blame the cereal."

"Is it possible, that just for once, I could do what I want to do?" Connor snapped, immediately regretting it. "I didn't mean that."

"Sure ya didn't," Kevin scoffed.

Connor began to feel angry little butterflies at the base of his stomach. His hands began to shake so much that the spoon clinked repeatedly against the bowl. Connor lay the spoon on the table, standing up to face Kevin. He always felt at an equal level if he stood up.

"I just want to go to work, is that such an outrageous request?"

Connor turned to walk away, however he was stopped as Kevin gripped onto his wrist too tight for it to be friendly. He was pushed to the nearest wall, his head connecting harshly with it, and faced with an enraged Kevin.

"Yes, yes it is, do you want to know why? I wanted to spend the day with you, and what do you do? You go and throw it back in my face like you always do. I wanted to do something nice for you, I thought you'd appreciate it, but I guess not."

Kevin's grip got tighter on Connor's wrist. Connor felt himself being pushed further into the wall, if that was even possible, and realised that Kevin wasn't going to stop talking anytime soon. He could see little black dots dancing across his vision, be it from panicking or from lack...of...air.

"I thought you'd love to spend time with me. I, I, I bet you were going to leave me, weren't you? Well, you can't I really need you. Just stay with me, please. Answer me, dammit!"

Kevin's arm had moved to lean against Connor's throat and with the immense pressure that Kevin was putting on, he couldn't really answer him.

"Y-you're hurting me," Connor's voice was tiny, barely letting any sound out, although it was enough for Kevin to hear.

"Shit, oh god," Kevin took a step back, his eyes wide in fear, his face paler than his usual complexion. "I've really done it this time, haven't I?"

Connor swallowed and moved away from Kevin, utterly terrified by him. He'd never felt like this since Uganda when the General had stolen his bags, as he did with every member of District Nine, upon arrival.

"I'm sorry, I, I am."

Connor slowly made his way from the room, feeling Kevin's eyes burning on his back the entire time.

"I am sorry."

"I'm going to go have a shower."

As Connor stood in the bathroom, his hands shaking too much to lock the door never mind have a shower, he thought about what had just happened. What had just happened? What even was that? Who was that man who stood in the kitchen and why had he replaced Kevin?

His mind was everywhere, jumping from topic to topic as quickly as you could say " _hello_ ". He was so nice in Uganda, so nice and perfect and everything Connor could ever want in a man. So much so, he had actually tried to make a pass at Kevin when he was covered in blood - when he had just seen someone get shot for pity's sake! He had leaned right in there and everything! So where was the Connor that could do impulsive things like that? Where was the Kevin who was so devoted to something and would handle that something with care? Who were they?

And suddenly Connor can't breathe. He can't cry either. He's just sat - how did he get to sitting? - in a bathroom, of a tense apartment, a couple of miles or something away from Disney, in a country where no one else really knew what other countries were like! Other countries where girls are mutilated for no apparent reason!

Connor had seen so many people die. So many. About eleven in total. Including Mafala, Ghali, Matumbo, Gotswana, and everyone else. There was a cure, a cure, and they couldn't afford it so it remained unchecked and yet people still kept having babies in order for the babies to get... y'know, what happened to Kevin. Gosh, it was all so real.

And Connor fully realises that he's felt like this before. Only when he was thirteen and his parents had found out about his little problem. They had got it into his head that being gay was bad. His dad had demonstrated with his bedroom light.

_"Whenever you have a homosexual thought, or someone hurts you, or something bad happens, just turn it off. Like this light switch. When you see something bad, it's on, and when you turn it off, it's gone and you don't even have to think about it. Do you think you can do that Connor?"_

So maybe that's why Connor's breathing slows back to normal. He could just, turn it off, right? Blink and it's gone. He wouldn't have to think about what just happened, just put on a fake smile and tell Kevin that it's okay (but it wasn't, it really wasn't) (but maybe it could be if Connor convinced himself so). Everything...everything was fine. Perfect. He has a man that loves him, a stable home, more friends than he can ever imagine. Perfect.

"I'm so sorry," Kevin said as Connor walked out of the bathroom, a smile plastered on his face; he didn't feel so helpless anymore.

"Do you want to watch a movie?"

"What?"

"Do you want to watch a movie, it's, it's not a hard question."

"Is that it then?"

"What?"

"N-nothing," Kevin said, his face drawn in confusion. "Beauty and the Beast?"

"Whatever you want," Connor sat down on the sofa, his legs crossed underneath him. He seemed so calm, but he was in fact dancing on a volcano (hadn't a German said that?) - everything may seem calm on the surface, but underneath he was  floundering, gasping for breath and - _click_.

All better.

The day was spent lounging around the apartment - Connor made no move to suggest going to work - and watching Disney movies. They got through three and a half before Kevin suggested that he should make dinner; Connor willingly agreed - how many times had he come home to see Kevin immediately asking him about food? - and continued to watch Lady and the Tramp, until he remembered Poptarts.

"Hey Kevin?" Connor walked into the kitchen to see Kevin struggling to get a pan out of the cupboard. Connor went to help him. "Do you think Poptarts could come stay the weekend?"

"Why?" Kevin said accusingly.

"Because he's my best friend," Connor filled the pan with water as Kevin stood back.

"And?"

"I want to spend time with him, we've hardly seen each other since we came back," Connor's voice trailed off, realising that this was a hopeless endeavour.

"Well, you've got me, haven't you?"

"Yeah, but- you know what, it doesn't matter," Connor sighed and put the pan on the counter.

"But what?"

"Nothing, don't worry, I'll just tell him that we're going to your parents or something," Connor moved towards Kevin and wrapped the other in a hug.

"Why did you even want him to come in the first place? It's not like you've got anything to talk about," Kevin pushed the other away from him.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means that you don't do anything apart from mope about all day and carry coffee. What sort of job is that?"

"It wasn't exactly my preference," Connor scoffed, folding his arms. "And anyway, you're the one that told me to apply for it."

"Because you can't do anything else!"

"Why are you being like this?" Connor said after a pause.

"Like what?"

"You're that obsessed with yourself aren't you? Look, I can't deal with you when you're being like this. I'll go to Poptarts place instead," Connor suggested.

Kevin's face fell. "No, what? No, no, you can't, you can't go. I won't let you. How could you even, why would you say that? I asked you to never leave me and-"

"Just be quiet a minute, please. Me going away might be good for us. It might let us calm down and stuff. I'll pack my things tonight and see if there's a flight for the morning."

"You planned this didn't you?" Kevin's entire form began to shake with a mixture of anger and panic.

"W-what are you talking ab-"

"You know perfectly well."

Connor was taken aback. He didn't know what was happening and was helpless to calm Kevin down. Kevin just kept talking, his words blended into each other as Connor went further and further into his own head, keeping safe and calm, safe and calm, in his tiny boxes. These were the safest places that Connor could believe in and provided more comfort than anyone could ever show.

He crept further into this head space, Kevin's entire body now blurring in and out of his vision, but at least he couldn't hear the harsh words anymore. When you turn it off, it's gone and you don't even have to think about it. So Connor did. Turned off the thing that was hurting him. Turned off Kevin's jarring words. Turned off Kevin's gesticulating hands. Turned off Kevin Price until Connor didn't remember that he was Connor Mckinley anymore because all that he was now was who Kevin had made him to be.

He briefly remembered a time, a blissful time, where he could be himself. A time where he was freshly out of his parent's grasp and could taste freedom. A time where Steve Blade was a funny story to tell at meal times as he saw Kevin slowly get more jealous but would laugh it off and embrace him in a hug and a kiss to the top of his head.

Suddenly, he awoke from this temporary heaven, his lip stinging, and Kevin standing menacingly over his small form. How did he get on the floor anyway?

"That wasn't me, you _made_ me do that."

Connor lifted his hand to his mouth; blood stained his fingers and he could taste small amounts of iron in his mouth. He got to his feet, his head still ringing from the impact and held onto the table for support.

"You hear me?"

Connor nodded and averted his eyes from Kevin.

"Good."

After a pause Connor spoke. "I think I should go, I-I can't be around you."

"No. You're mine."

"I'm not an object Kevin!"

"I don't care. You're not leaving, I won't let you."

"I am a grown man. I've survived worse than being separate from you for a week."

"Why do you always think about yourself? It's always - 'oh I was District Leader' and 'oh no, my fucking boss shouted at me for forgetting milk and now I'm going to cry for an hour'. It's bullpoop Connor, all of it. You're not the one who faced the General. You're not the one who had a gun pointed at his face on many occasions. You haven't seen someone be killed. You're a gay man who can't tell your own parents that you're gay and living with your fiancé not a room mate."

"That was low Kevin," Connor straightened his body, attempting to seem confident whilst on the inside he was crashing in on himself, ripping himself to shreds.

"It's the truth."

"I'm leaving. And it might just be for good."

"No you're _fucking_ not."

Kevin struck Connor again, laying into him in every place he could think of. Connor found himself curled up once again on the floor as Kevin repeatedly slammed his foot against his ribs. He began to flicker in and out in and out in and out of consciousness, but every time he did Kevin was there, screaming at him all the things Connor knew he was.

_"Failure." "Pathetic." "Useless." "Frigid." "Failure. Pathetic. Useless. Frigid." "Failure.Pathetic.Useless.Frigid. Failurepatheticuselessfrigid. Failurepatheticuselessfrigid. Failurepatheticuselessfrigidfailurepatheticuselessfrigidfailurepatheticuselessfrigidfailurepatheticuselessfrigidfailurepatheticuselessfrigid."_

And he couldn't breathe. Couldn't quite get air to his lungs. Every time he attempted another kick came and they wouldn't stop. In that moment, Connor was pretty sure he asked Heavenly Father for death, to end his life right there, and he didn't feel guilty for it. He just wanted Kevin to stop.

"Fuck, shit. Oh God," the abuse (because that's what it was, that's what it was even though Connor thought that it was him for threatening Kevin with leaving - what sort of person does that?) it stopped. As abruptly as it had started it had finished. And Connor didn't know who he was anymore.

The sound of Kevin moving slightly didn't make him flinch. He just sort of layed there, too shocked to comprehend that he was aching.

"I'm going out, I'll be back in an hour. This, this wasn't my fault, alright? Don't, don't tell anyone, don't message Poptarts, don't call him, don't call anyone."

Connor said nothing.

"This is what love is. This is what adult love is. It's passion. Passion, alright?"

Connor said nothing.

"I love you."

Connor didn't reply.

And Kevin was gone. Another two minutes later and the apartment was silent. Connor could feel his heart breaking slowly but surely. He couldn't cry, he was sort of helpless, emotionless, drained.

Instead of thinking about his current situation, his attention turned to the good times in Uganda.

Like the time when Naba had pulled him into an impromptu traditional Ugandan dance. He hadn't known what to do, but enjoyed it nevertheless.

Like the time when he had given Poptarts an extra box of poptarts on his birthday and he had hugged Connor so hard he thought he was going to burst. He hadn't.

Like the time when Arnold and Naba had asked him - him - to bless their engagement. Their excited, hopeful faces were enough to make him erupt into happy tears.

Like the time when Kimbe had taught him to cook something other than _the shit you white boys cook. What the fuck is a maple glaze doughnut? If Elder Price wants that shit tell him to go back to America._

Like the time when all of them had a party beneath the stars the night before they were due to get back on flights to their respective cities. It was a bitter sweet memory of holding his new friends close and old ones closer. He couldn't bear that he was leaving some back in Uganda without the much needed medicine. But he had enjoyed it. The villagers had performed Joseph Smith: American Moses for them again and Connor was amazed by their skill.

Connor came back to consciousness. The pain blossomed from everywhere. Connor supposed that this must be how Kevin felt after the General.... well, he must have felt helpless after. He had no one to turn to and strangely, funnily, ironically enough, neither did Connor. And that's what made him let out a pathetic laugh which soon turned into a torrent of tears, snot, and sobs which hardly looks attractive. Then again, who's going to see him like this? Certainly not Kevin; he always leaves after, too ashamed, too angry.

"Connor pull over," Poptarts demands and Connor follows his instruction. He pulls into an empty Walmart car park.

"I-I'm sorry, I don't know what came over me," Connor stutters, a tear cascading down his cheek.

"What's he done to you?"

"N-nothing."

"Don't bullshit me Connor Mckinley!"

Connor flinches.

"What has he done?"

"Nothing," Connor stresses.

Poptarts gives him a look.

"Alright, so maybe he's passionate, but there's nothing wrong."

Poptarts gives him another look.

"Stop looking at me like that."

"When he's out of ear shot you're telling me everything. I can see the signs Connor, I'm not as stupid as you make me out to be. As he makes me out to be."

"I-I don't know what you mean."

"You do."

"Just leave it."

"I can't. I'm your best friend."

Kevin goes straight to bed when they get back to the apartment giving Connor a quick kiss and Poptarts a steely glare. Connor pretends he doesn't see this, choosing instead to make the both of them a hot chocolate. He thinks about getting Poptarts his namesake but chooses against it - ex-Mormons don't need that much sugar.

"Stop stalling," Poptarts sits on one side of the sofa and Connor is reminded of his first conversation with his sleeping soon to be husband.

Connor sighs and puts down his drink on the coffee table. Poptarts looks at him expectantly and Connor isn't sure whether he can do this. Whether he's ready to let go of the one constant thing that's been in his life for three years. 

"What do you want to know?"

"Where he hurt you."

Connor bites his lip. The scab from where Kevin's ring connected with him hasn't come off yet and he has slight bruising around it. It's not noticeable though. So maybe, maybe if he denies everything and goes to bed with Kevin, things will be alright. But Poptarts knows now. Even if he doesn't exactly know, he speculates, and if he gets in contact with ex-Elder Church they'll see Kevin for who he actually is.

There's no way out which is the way out.

"Places unnoticeable," Connor shrugs, his gaze looking downwards, ashamed.

"He hit your nose right?"

"Is it really that easy to spot?"

"It's still red."

"Oh."

"Anywhere else?"

Connor breathes in deeply. He takes a sip of his scolding drink, the pain preferable to what Kevin has caused, and folds his arms. Slowly, with gentle coaxing from the other, he lifts his jumper up revealing the now dark skin painted on his stomach. He winces but he's fine. He'd take this over Kevin actually hurting him again. 

"My God," Poptarts holds a hand over his mouth. "Have you taken painkillers? You need to go to the hospital Con, that doesn't look like normal bruising."

"Yeah, I've taken some paracetamol," Connor lowers his jumper again, reaching for his drink.

"When did this happen?"

"Monday afternoon. You know," Connor laughs pathetically. "You messaged me while I was waiting for him to come back. And I was this close to telling you, I nearly rang you. Gosh, I just, it's weird."

"What?"

"You don't think this sort of thing will happen to you, but when it does, it kind of makes sense. Why wouldn't Heavenly Father punish me for gay thoughts? Why wouldn't He let my lover hurt me? That's just, that's just how it goes, right?"

"He wouldn't punish you for that when he made you this way-"

"Kevin said that want we have is adult, it's passion, and I believe him. That's, that's pretty messed up."

"He's been manipulating you."

"Yeah, well," Connor runs a hand through his hair. "I was easy."

"What do you mean?"

"I needed someone to love me and there he was."

"You need to leave him."

Connor coughs, his eyes widen, and he's back in the kitchen. Kevin is hitting him all over again and he knows it's his fault his fault his fault his fault.

"Right now."

And so he does.

***

Kevin wakes up easily. His guilty conscious is still plaguing him but Connor had promised not to leave so he's okay. He's not helpless just yet.

There's a cold empty space where Connor usually sleeps. Kevin finds this unusual as Connor normally kisses the other awake. He remembers that ex-Elder Thomas is here, or Poptarts as Connor calls him, so Connor probably fell asleep with him on the sofa after talking all night.

Kevin does love him. Of course he does, he just cant, won't cope without Connor. Maybe it's some instilled fear from the General, but nevertheless he needs Connor.

Kevin doesn't see the either Connor or ex-Elder Thomas on his way to the kitchen. It's strangely quiet, abnormally so. 

"Con?"

There's no answer.

"You here?"

Silence.

He looks to the kitchen table. On it lie a piece of paper, a pen, and a ring. Kevin realises it's Connor's engagement ring. 

_No no no no no no no no no no._

He reads the note. It's in Connor's writing and rushed.

_Kevin,_

_I'm sorry. Maybe one day I'll come to forgive you._

_Love, Con_  
_x_

And Kevin's whole life shatters.

***

The years come and go. Seasons mix into one another and with each one, Connor feels lighter, more hopeful, less helpless. He's happy. For the first time in his life, he's blissfully, completely happy with himself. He's gay and that's okay. He doesn't have a boyfriend yet, he can't yet and that's okay. He's still best friends with Poptarts and that's more than okay. He sees him every year  and goes to visit Arnold, Naba, and their little one who's five now and growing every day. And that's amazing.

He doesn't hear of any of the other Elders from his District apart from ex-Elder Church who is part of the domestic abuse help centre he went to after he left Kevin. Ex-Elder Church is half obligated to check in with his client every six months which is also okay.

And Kevin. He hasn't seen him since he gave Connor a chaste kiss goodnight with promises to see him the next day. It still affects him that he broke his promise to Kevin but that's more than okay. He's free. Liberated.

Not helpless, hopeful.

He's a swing in the best musical he's ever been a part of, hoping that one day he will play Javert. (He may have to dye his hair for that though - he'd happily play as Annie but unfortunately he is a twenty eight year old man)(Annie is also not on the West End until later this year).

So yes. He's happy, he's hopeful, and he's free.

One day he's walking past the Thames on the phone to one of his Cast Members (another swing) when he sees him.  His tousled hair is as it's always been and his tan is noticeable in the cool English weather. He has his arm slung around another man. Connor decides to talk to him .

He's ready.

"Kevin Price?"

Kevin turns around. A glimmer of recognition passes over his eyes.

"Connor?"

It takes all of his self control not to say fuck you but somehow he manages it.

"I think I can forgive you now."

"But, what are you doing in London? I, wow, I thought I'd never see you again. Wow."

"I live here," Connor smiles, the most genuine one he'd ever given to Kevin. "Hi, I'm Connor Mckinley," he says to the man attached to Kevin's side. "I hope this one is treating you well."

"Yeah, he is," the man replies. "I'm Boe."

"If he doesn't, ask for me at the Les Mis stage door at the Queen's Theatre."

"Con, I, I took anger management courses. I  truly am sorry for everything I caused," Kevin extends his hand in truce.

Connor accepts and takes a glance at Boe's wrist. And he's glad to say that there's not a bruise in sight. He's happy for Kevin.

And all at once, he knows that he truly forgives Kevin. And that's all there is to life really.

_Forgive, love, and never turn it off. Emotions matter. Who you are matters. You shouldn't ever feel helpless for anyone. This was Connor McKinley's ode to helplessness, who will be next?_

 

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed. This is the longest fic I've ever written. 
> 
> Leave Kudos and Comments:)


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